


Stronger (Unbroken) ((REMADE))

by bafflinghaze



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry Potter, Deputy head auror Harry, Grey/Slightly Dark Draco Malfoy, Human Experimentation, Legilimency, M/M, Magical Compatibility, Partially a case fic, Powerful Draco Malfoy, Powerful Harry Potter, Some Action, Top Draco Malfoy, Wandless Magic, magic bonding, slight blood and gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-04 20:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bafflinghaze/pseuds/bafflinghaze
Summary: After months of being experimented on, Draco finally escapes...only to be locked up in a Ministry cell. But he knows he’s been changed: his magic is wilder, stronger, what heneedsto escape the Ministry and to hunt down his captors andtorturethem as they did him.But then he comes in contact with Auror Harry Potter, and things take a sharptwist—





	Stronger (Unbroken) ((REMADE))

**Author's Note:**

> This is prompt #39, from [FickleBiscuits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FickleBiscuits):
>
>> No one realizes Draco had been taken until he shows up in London one day barely lucid and covered in the blood of his captors. He seems normal once he's given rest and food, his magic spikes a little high, but nothing abnormal.
>> 
>> Until Auror Potter comes in to question him. And then his magic goes wild.
>> 
>> He seems feral, drawn by the instinctive call of his magic to entwine with Harry's. No matter how much he and Harry tries to deny it.
>> 
>> Draco's magic knows what it wants and it will take it.
> 
>   
> FickleBiscuits, I did my best to hit most of your special requests, though I admit I might have an abundance of Wandless Magic compared to the others! Because the moment I saw the prompt, I was struck with a _powerful_ wandless Draco.
> 
> This was betaed by [KristinaBird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kristinabird) 😊

  


# Stronger (Unbroken) _((REMADE))_

  


The needle pierced Draco’s skin, the action so familiar Draco barely flinched. But as hands pushed down on the plunger, as the red liquid in the barrel merged with Draco’s blood, Draco’s magic began to _sing_. Energy resonated, amplified, _burst out_ —

Hope and _anger_ shot through Draco’s daze. No time to _think_ , only to _act_. With a growl, Draco ripped apart his chains and flattened his captors.

They got back up again.

Draco hated them, _hated them_ , wanted to hear them _cry_. Magic drew like a cloak of knives around him. _Struck them_. Again and _again_ , until _their_ blood ran as freely as _his_ had at their hands.

Air became heavy, pushed down on his shoulders, too hard to breathe. Wards bit his skin, threatened to crush him.

Hissing, Draco summoned spilled blood to him. Red, viscous, turning dark in the cold air.

 _Gaia, hear my plea! For the gift of my blood and the blood of my enemies, grant me_ power!

Draco’s entire body sung, his magic jumped. Destination, Determination and fucking _Deliberation_.

The world shattered around Draco, wards ripping like spider’s webs. Light struck his eyes, the scent of _outside_ filling his nose, his lungs.

Dizzy, Draco swayed.

“ _Call the Aurors!_ ”

Draco tried to focus. A street. People. Blurry, all edging away from him as though he was a _monster_.

Draco coughed, his entire body shaking. His legs buckled.

“ _Dear Merlin! Someone, call a Healer!”_

He tried to straighten. Instead, he collapsed.

*

Harry was grumbling at his reports when Senior Auror Preston Havel sauntered in.

“Have you come to help me write these reports?” Harry said half-jokingly.

Preston grinned. “Harry, no one _forced_ you to become Deputy Head. You could just come back to being my partner.”

Harry frowned. “Is Nelson causing you trouble?”

“No,” Preston admitted, coming up to Harry’s desk. “But it’s just not the same without you.”

Harry chuckled. “Less life-and-death situations, I gather.”

“Yes, but I meant—”

Junior Auror Brian Nelson burst into Harry’s office. “ _Auror Potter!_ Oh, hi, Auror Havel.”

Preston gave a curt nod.

Harry’s eyes immediately sharpened. “What’s the problem?”

“Disturbance reported on Diagon Alley, sir!”

“Details?”

Nelson flushed. “The report wasn’t clear, sir. A wizard apparated into the middle of the crowd, covered in blood.”

Harry sighed. “Nelson, take Auror Havel and investigate. And next time, _you don’t need my permission_ to answer a call from the public.”

“Yes sir!”

“Definitely not the same,” Preston said to Harry. Harry could only offer a wry look in response. Snorting, Preston turned to Nelson and started herding him out. “Let’s go, Nelson.”

To be honest, Harry _wished_ he was going with them— _anything_ to get out of the Ministry and onto the field.

Harry dragged in a sigh. If only something _interesting_ would happen…

*

Upon arriving, Preston immediately headed towards the ringed cluster of citizens, his Auror partner Nelson on his heels.

A foolish—or brave—citizen was attempting to cast basic healing spells.

“Move away!” Preston ordered. “Aurors!”

Relief rippled through the crowd and some of the citizens dispersed, while some inevitably stayed to watch. Preston rolled back his shoulders.

The citizen crouched by the body stood. “I think he’s okay,” she started.

“Auror Nelson, if you may.”

Nelson nodded eagerly and spelled the body over and moved straggly hair from face. “Sir! This is Draco Malfoy, one of the Death Eaters!”

A bitter taste filled Preston’s mouth. Draco Malfoy, the man Harry Potter had testified for all those years ago.

“And all covered in blood that I suspect is not his own,” Preston muttered.

Malfoy had no visible wounds, the blood splattered only on the surface of his clothes. _Who have you attacked, Draco Malfoy? Who have you killed_?

“Auror Nelson, tie him up. We are transporting him directly to a Ministry cell and away from innocent citizens.”

Nelson’s eyes gleamed as he cast an _Incarcerous_

“And Nelson,” Preston said quietly, pointedly. “Do _not_ tell Auror Potter about this, understand? He is busy with his own work. _We_ will close this case ourselves.” 

__

Nelson nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Good.” Inclining his head, he allowed Nelson to levitate Malfoy’s unconscious body to the lockup.

 _You won’t go free this time, Malfoy_.

*

Suppression spells pressed against Draco’s skin. The spike of fear and anger and _not-again_ jolted Draco awake.

A white room, a thin mattress beneath his body.

Draco narrowed his eyes. It was familiar, from after the War.

_A Ministry cell._

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” A wizard, with twin insignias of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and St. Mungos, sent a tray through the bars to Draco. “Eat something, the Deputy Head Auror will have my _head_ for maltreatment of prisoners. There’s a blood replenisher there as well.”

Draco’s stomach had been empty for a long time. He licked his lips, and forced out, “Thank you.”

The wizard snorted. “Yeah, whatever. Hurry up and eat so I can take the tray away.”

Draco gave a jerky nod. He downed the blood replenisher first, and gamely muched through the plate of sandwiches.

As the potion coursed through his system and food filled his belly, he felt himself breathing deeper and deeper as magic burned through the sustenance and rebuilt his body.

The moment he was done, the wizard summoned back the tray. “You better sit tight. Someone’ll be down to question you eventually.” He uttered a spell, and the bars turned into a solid wall, enclosing Draco in.

After a beat, Draco stretched out his hands casually, his scalp tinglingly aware of the monitoring spells that laced the cell.

His hands didn’t look different.

But he knew that the blood in his veins was different.

The blood of his enemies had been cleaned from his skin, and his clothes—an ugly black short-sleeve shirt and trousers—had been poorly scourgified.

Draco hated it, and his magic welled in response, pushing back against the Ministry’s suppression spells. Hovering his hands over his body, he stripped the dirt, grime and oil from his skin and hair.

He was aware of the monitoring spells in the cell, pressing down even harder.

Anger bubbled within him. People kept trying to clamp down on Draco’s magic—the period of restricted wand use after the war, his parole trips to the Ministry that meant relinquishing his wand…

And the kidnapping.

And now _this_.

His magic called out, sliding against his skin. He did _not_ have to take this lying down. Slashing a hand out, Draco made a small cut through the wards and summoned his wardrobe.

*

Alarm spells blared into Harry’s ear. He immediately dropped his quill.

“ _Disruption in the cells. Disruption in the cells_ —” the alarm’s voice droned.

Harry summoned his Auror robes and dashed down to the cells. Two guards were standing just inside the reception area of the jail, and both immediately snapped to attention.

“Auror Potter! The wards have been compromised in Malfoy’s cell!”

“Lucius Malfoy? I should have been notified immediately that he’d broken his house arrest!” Harry snapped.

“No, sir! Draco Malfoy!”

The other guard opened the door to the lockup zone. “He’s in the last cell.”

Adrenalin shot through Harry. “ _Draco Malfoy?_ Who brought him _in_?” Harry asked, even as he followed the guard through the corridors.

“Aurors Havel and Nelson took him into custody a few hours ago, sir. He was covered in unidentified blood.”

 _A wizard, covered in blood…!_ As they approached the cell, Harry drew himself up. He tapped the wall, activating the one-way-vision spell.

Harry’s pulse jumped.

White blond hair, pale skin, and inky-dark blue-purple robes that framed shoulders and cut open to reveal a smart suit and pressed trousers and black boots. Malfoy was standing at the center of the room, staring to the side. From that angle, his face looked particularly sharp and angular.

The guard scratched his head. “He wasn’t wearing that when he came in.”

Malfoy’s head turned. Harry narrowed his eyes as Malfoy stalked towards them.

“I suppose Aurors Havel and Nelson did not tell you why he’s in custody,” Harry muttered. “Have they been back?”

The guard shook his head. “I alerted them when Malfoy woke up.”

Harry gave a tight nod. “Go back to your station. When they arrive, tell them that Deputy Head Auror Potter has taken over their case.”

“Yes sir.” The guard shot one last look at Malfoy and quickly strode away.

Malfoy was right up against the wall, fingers running along the edge of the wards.

Harry swiped his wand, turning the wall back into bars. “Draco Malfoy.”

Malfoy jerked back, mouth tightening. “What do you want from me?” he growled, voice lower than Harry had remembered, the sound of it going straight down Harry’s body—

Harry drew authority around himself like a cloak. “You apparated into Diagon Alley covered in blood. _Why_?”

“It was _unplanned_. I had to leave my prior location.”

Harry came closer to the bars. “And where was that?”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. And the moment I _find out_ —” Malfoy’s teeth clenched, and he tossed his head the other way.

“How could you _not_ know?” Harry wracked his brain, hard. There were only a few options as to why Malfoy didn’t know. Maybe he had been _lost_ —

Malfoy half turned his head back, eyes glittering cold. “I was unconscious when I was moved. And while I was conscious, I was always kept in an undefined room.”

Something heavy dropped in Harry’s stomach. “Tell me.”

“Let me out.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Why were you covered in blood?”

Malfoy came right up against the bars. “ _Let me out_.”

Harry glared at him. “ _Not_ helping your case here, Malfoy!”

Malfoy’s eyes deepened. “ _Legilimens._ ”

Harry barely had time to throw up Occlumency shields. It didn’t matter anyway, as Harry was sucked into Malfoy’s mind.

—Sitting, eating, sudden stomach rolling dizziness—

—Waking up to faces, always shadowed, always disguised by a spell or surgical mask—

—Hands, ropes, chains, spells, holding him down as potions were forced down this throat, as needles forced solutions into his blood—

—The sudden _burning_ in his body, his magic fighting, changing, crescendoing—

—Changed, different, anger. Magic strong and pulsing and _alive_ —

—The blood of his captors _running_ like they had bled him—

— _Gaia, hear my plea!...Grant me_ power!—

Harry sucked in a breath as he rocked back from Malfoy, gripping his wand tightly in hand. His skin prickled with the ghosts of bonds and needles and gnawing stomach. His muscles trembled with the ghost of rushing power.

Harry’s jaw tightened. “They experimented on you. _Modified_ you.”

Malfoy half-raised a hand, turning it over. “They tried. And they succeeded. _Their_ mistake.”

Harry took a breath. “Who were they?”

Malfoy shot him a dark look. “Why don’t _you_ tell _me_? You saw my memories.”

“You want to go back and kill them. Regardless of who they are, I can’t let that happen.”

“And so you’ll leave me here like a unicorn for the slaughter,” Malfoy snarled. “Let me _out_ , Potter! This is between _me_ and _them_.”

“No harm will come to you while you’re here,” Harry said firmly. “I’m the Deputy Head of the Department. I can assure your safety. I’m sorry, Malfoy, but you have to stay here.” Giving Malfoy a curt, professional nod, Harry forced himself to walk away.

Harry didn’t trust Malfoy. If Malfoy _really_ had been missing, kidnapped, _surely_ Harry would have known about it. There _must_ have been something Malfoy hadn’t told him, hadn’t shown him. But Harry was an honourable Auror, and he was going to get to the bottom of this.

*

Unspeakable Arthur Bartholow settled back after watching what had happened between Auror Potter and Draco Malfoy over the monitoring spells. Mildly disappointed, he pulled out a special memo pad spelled for secrecy and wrote an order for one Hitwizard Richard Cord; sensitivity: _critical_.

*

Draco slammed the bars as Potter turned his _back_ on him. The wards rippled.

Potter, with his whirlwind of black hair and death-green eyes and bright red Auror robes, all _so sure_ of himself. Walking away, disappearing down the corridor.

Draco could _feel_ monitoring spells _watching_ him. He could feel the suppression spells trying to squash him.

Draco drew his hand back, curled into a fist. And _punched_.

Spells _screeched_. With his other hand, Draco clawed back the wards, tearing them apart. He couldn’t stay here. He _had_ to leave.

Magic answered his call. Bars bent and Draco slipped through.

The sudden feeling of relative freedom gave Draco new strength and resolve. His cell was at the end of a corridor, there was only one other way to go. Draco reached out his senses, feeling the layout of the jail.

Something like lightning crawled over his skin when his magic touched the presence that was Harry Potter. Yearning, wanting, _needing_ threatened to overcome him.

Draco drew a harsh breath and reined his magic back in. _He_ didn’t want Potter. It was just his magic acting up after whatever it was that the researchers had done to him.

Draco ducked.

Red sizzled overhead.

Draco reflexively reached for his wand, hands scrambling at nothing. He’d lost his wand when he was captured.

“ _Protego!_ ” he snapped. A blue shield formed just in time as another spell slammed into it.

Draco stepped forward, drew in and pushed, grasping at the other source of magic, the other person in the shadows.

It was a guard. “Draco Malfoy, I advise you stand down!”

“I’m _leaving_!” Draco growled. He dodged a spell, eyes narrowed when the guard suddenly pulled out a muggle handgun.

The far door slammed open, red robes flaring out as Potter ran towards them. “What’s going _on_ here? Malfoy, what the hell—”

The guard turned and the handgun disappeared. “Mr. Malfoy has escape from his cell. Your assistance in returning him would be appreciated.”

Potter nodded, jaw square, and raised his wand at Draco. Potter’s magic rolled towards him—

—and Draco’s magic _exploded_.

Magic, so intense that it wove through the air like lightning, jagged and clawing for Potter, for Potter’s _magic_. It called out, and Potter’s magic called back.

It was like the other half to Draco’s soul.

It wanted, and it twisted and curled in with Potter.

“Auror Potter! He’s trying to bond with you!” the guard shouted.

Potter bared his teeth and ripped his magic back towards himself.

Not to be outdone, Draco _ordered_ his damned magic back. There was absolutely _no_ cause nor rhyme nor reason to want _anything_ to do with Potter.

The guard conjured sudden ropes that twisted around Draco’s feet and toppled him, in a crash, onto the floor.

“Auror Potter!”

Draco lifted his head just as Potter shot out a stunner. Magic cried in betrayal as the spell hit, and Draco’s world hazed over.

_Not again!_

His entire body froze up, his magic stilled.

But then, he realised that he could still hear. And that he could still _think_ —

*

Harry breathed harshly, wand still outstretched towards the fallen Malfoy. It felt wrong, like he _shouldn’t_ have hurt Malfoy. To see that body crumpled on the ground...His magic shivered, still trembling from the attempted magical bonding.

“Sir, I’ll move him back to a cell now.”

“I want to make sure myself, if you don’t mind.”

The guard nodded. “Of course, sir.” He levitated Malfoy’s body, and Harry kept a close eye as Malfoy was deposited into a nearby cell.

“How did he escape in the first place?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’ll stand watch. He won’t be escaping again.”

Harry pursed his lips. “Very well.” He stared down at Malfoy’s still form, the disheveled white hair. He half wished Malfoy would get up and show that he was _alive_.

“One last thing, sir.”

“Yes?” Harry said, giving Malfoy one last glance.

The guard had his wand up. “Can you look into my eyes?”

Harry’s brows drew together. “Pardon?” Automatically, Harry looked into his eyes.

“ _Obliv—_ ”

—The floor shuddered. Harry unbalanced, caught movement at the corner of his eye as Malfoy’s stunner spell shattered—

“— _viate!_ ”

—and Malfoy leapt for the bars. The obliviate spell skimmed Harry’s face.

Harry jumped back, mind reeling. The guard. Malfoy.

The guard shot a stunner through the bars at Malfoy, who pushed it aside with a hand wreathed in magic and grabbed for the cell bars, slowly bending them apart—

“Auror Potter—”

Harry snapped out a wordless _Expelliarmus_ and caught the guard’s wand. “ _Who_ are you?”

“ _Sir_ , Malfoy is attempting to _escape_!”

“ _Who are you_?” Harry repeated.

The guard frowned. “James Craig, sir.”

“Craig, you’re hereby _suspended_ for attempting to Obliviate an _Auror_.”

Craig’s lips twisted. “Sir, you must be mistaken, I meant to— _Stupe—_ ” A second wand suddenly appeared in his hand, the tip pointed at Harry’s chest.

“Oh _no_ you _don’t!_ ” Malfoy burst free from the cell, crashing into Harry as the stunner hit Malfoy in the back. Malfoy stiffened, his cheek brushed against Harry’s lips—

—And Harry’s magic jumped out, twisting and turning with Malfoy’s.

“ _Rennervate!_ ”

Malfoy’s body jerked, his eyes snapped opened too close to Harry’s, large hands grasped Harry’s shoulders as he righted himself and turned around. Harry followed his gaze.

The guard was gone.

Harry’s magic, reaching out and twisting and yearning, dragged his attention back to Malfoy. Harry’s eyes traced the outline of Malfoy’s face, and Malfoy turned back to him, tongue darting out for a moment—

Malfoy yanked his hands back and quickly retreated a step. “A unicorn for _slaughter_ ,” Malfoy growled. “He wanted to take me _back_ there. Immobilising spells, instead of killing ones—”

“What are you talking about? He never said anything close to that!” Harry protested.

Malfoy turned back to him, a sardonic look on his face. “Oh, but that _Obliviate_ was completely innocent and well meant, I’m sure.”

Harry clenched his fist. “Fuck.”

“I’m _not_ safe here. And it seems, _neither are you_.” Malfoy stalked forward. “The guard’s magic signature ends here. Silent apparition. Potter, who in the Ministry has the security clearance to apparate within here?”

Head hurting, Harry shook his head. “ _No one_ has security clearance for that. There is no such thing as security clearance to apparate here.”

Malfoy sneered. “I bet the great Harry Potter has apparated out of here before.”

Harry winced. “I have. But that’s because—because I’m magically powerful.”

“You’re not the only one.” Malfoy had leaned in close, and in response, Harry leaned forward to match, heart thudding.

Energy and heat crackled between them. Harry yanked back, cursing himself. Tense situations and heavy magic often had his blood running high.

“Are you _really_ trying to bond with me?”

Malfoy’s lips twisted. “Of course not. I’m going to _find_ those people who made my magic like this. You’re...welcome to come, if you don’t want me to kill them.”

“I’m coming,” Harry snapped. “I don’t like what’s happening here.”

Malfoy sweep a hand forward. “Then track them down, Auror.”

“Let’s trace back to the beginning. Where were you taken?”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. He held out a hand.

Harry stared at it.

Malfoy darted forward, grabbed him, and side-alonged Harry out through Ministry wards.

*

 _A little village in the middle of nowhere_. Draco didn’t give Potter time to recover and instead immediately headed down the tiny little street.

The place was rustic and quiet. Draco had thought it peaceful, _before_. But now, that quietness seemed like deadly _silence_.

Magic simmered in his palms when he spotted the little inn. There was an open sign, and light flickered inside.

“There was no one else there that day except the owner,” Draco said when Potter finally caught up to him.

“Name?”

“Margaret Burke.” Draco strode forward, and pushed the door open. “Hello? Is there anyone here?” he called out, pitching his voice high and innocent.

A witch bustled out from a private room. “How may I help you?” Her eyes widened upon seeing Draco, and she gave a quick, darting glance to Potter. “Oh, Draco! I haven’t seen you for ages—”

Draco stretched out his hand. “Stop that. I know you poisoned me.”

Burke shook her head. “Draco, _please_. I would never give any of my patrons food poisoning!”

Draco stalked forward. “Oh, it wasn’t _food_ poisoning. _Who took me afterwards?_ ”

Burke’s hands fluttered. “You were ill, I let you rest in one of the rooms. Your friend came by to pick you up.”

“ _I have no friends!_ ” Draco grasped Burke’s clothes. “ _Legilimens!_ ”

Draco wasn’t stupid enough to rip through memories and mind no matter how much he wanted to. Instead, he slipped inside deftly and with precision, going further and further back in Burke’s memories.

 _Months_ , he realised, when he finally found what he was looking for. It had been _months_ since he was kidnapped. Determined, Draco dove into the memories.

*

Harry wanted to tear his hair out, and kick Malfoy in the arse. It was completely illegal for a citizen to nonconsensually use Legilimency the way he was right now, and there was still a chance that Burke was innocent, and that she had been tricked by this “friend of Malfoy”.

 _I have no friends_.

Harry shook his head. It had to be an exaggeration. Malfoy had _heaps_ of friends. He was always surrounded by people back in Hogwarts.

Malfoy tore his eyes away and shoved Burke back. “For some _gold_. You should have at least asked _more_ for my body. _Stupefy_.”

Burke slumped, unconscious.

Harry hurried forward, catching Burke in a levitation before she could hit the ground. “Malfoy! Stop breaking the damn law!” Carefully, he moved Burke down to lie on one of the sofas by the inn’s fire.

Malfoy grinned, but it was a dark thing. “I wasn’t the only one she sold. Clare Rae, another pureblood, was similarly removed and sold to one Bert Knox, for the paltry sum of one-hundred galleons, on the pretence of commission for finding willing volunteers for research.” He glanced at Burke. “You should arrest her.”

“But I don’t have time, do I?” Harry gave Malfoy a hard look. “Where did they meet up?”

“Where do researchers often go to? A cafe, in London, of course.”

Harry sucked in a breath. “Do you think you were close to Diagon Alley the whole time?”

Malfoy’s gaze became distant. “Not extremely far. I used up a lot of power to break through the wards.” Malfoy held his hand out.

Harry knew where _this_ was going. He grasped it firmly and readied himself up against the squeezing sensation of apparition.

*

Arthur Bartholow did _not_ curse when Auror Potter and Malfoy disappeared from the Ministry, Hitwizard Cord’s strike a _failure_.

Taking out his memo pad, he quickly jotted down an amended order for Cord. Sometimes, death _was_ necessary, and a dead body could still be very useful.

With a sigh, he wrote a second memo to the other researchers to apologise for the unfortunate death of one of their subjects...

*

In the midst of the wizarding public, Draco hung back a little and let Potter direct the investigation. Draco had apparated them to the cafe where Margaret had met Knox, and he had given Potter the memories he had copied from Burke via Legilimency, but Draco didn’t know what to _do_ next, and his throat choked up in anger with the thought of having to just _sit and wait_ for Knox to _maybe_ turn up.

Assuming that Knox hadn’t been one of the researchers Draco had taken out, and assuming that Knox was foolish enough to come out here after Draco had escaped.

Draco had to admit that Potter _was_ competent. Potter strode into the cafe, confidently, and said, “Auror investigation, but please don’t worry,” as he flashed a relaxing smile.

One of the baristas came out from behind the counter. “Auror Potter, how may we help you?”

“I’m looking for one Bert Knox. I have reason to believe that he frequents this cafe.” Potter gave a quick rundown of Knox’s description from Burke’s memories.

“We need to speak to him,” Potter then said. “Have any of you seen him?”

The barista pursed their lips and turned to the other baristas. “Familiar?”

“Yeah,” one said. “I’ve spoken to him, forgot to spell his name with a ‘K’ once,” he joked. “Works at Kings, the wizarding branch I suppose. He hasn’t been here today, but he doesn’t come on a regular schedule.”

Potter blessed them with a smile. “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem,” the baristas echoed.

Potter motioned his head, and Draco followed him back outside.

This time, Potter apparated them to Kings. He immediately headed to the wizarding reception.

“Auror investigation!” Potter said.

The witch and the wizard behind the reception desk both gulped. “How can we help you, sir?” the witch said.

“I need to find someone by the name of Bert Knox. I believe he might be a researcher here.”

The two of them immediately started looking through their ledgers.

Draco hung back, trying to recall the magical signatures, the _blood_ , of his captors. If _only_ someone hadn’t vanished the blood in the first place.

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s no Bert Knox here.”

Potter squared his jaw. “That’s alright. Thanks for your assistance.”

A witch sidled up to Potter. “Um…”

Potter frowned. “Yes? I’m currently on duty.”

The witch shook her head. “No, I just—I heard you talking about Bert Knox?”

Potter focused on her. “What do you know?”

“I think I know him,” the witch said. “He’s not part of KCL, but I’ve seen him heading for the Strand underground.”

“The Strand underground has been closed since 1994—” Potter started. “Ah. Closed to _Muggles_.”

“I’ll show you, if you want to follow me?”

Potter nodded, and motioned to Draco to follow him and the witch.

Draco did so, but distractedly. There was _something_ about the magic in the air that felt familiar.

The Strand station was all barred up, but the witch continued past to an innocent door. Pushing, she headed in first, followed by Potter and Draco.

Inside, the entire place was _not_ well lit, nor was as well maintained or magically charged as Draco had expected. Instead, it was dark and musty.

“ _Lumos!_ ” Potter cast.

“ _Stupefy._ ”

Potter’s light went out as he fell.

The cadence of the words hit Draco. _The guard from before!_

“ _Revellio!_ ” Draco snapped out.

Nothing happened—it had to be polyjuice. The wix advanced, stepping over Potter’s body.

“ _Diffindo_ ,” they said.

Draco twisted, magic swirling into a shield. “ _Confringo! Rennervate!_ ”

The wix dodged, and the far wall exploded. Potter blearily lifted his head.

“ _Confringo. Expulso. Diffindo,_ ” the wix snapped out.

Pain flared in Draco’s arm as he failed to dodge everything. They wanted to _kill_ him.

They wanted to _silence_ him, forever and all eternity.

“ _Bombarda!_ ” Draco snapped back.

Potter stirred and looked between the two of them. “What—”

“Auror Potter, please stand down. You won’t be harmed,” the wix said. “I am from the Department of Mysteries. Your case has been handed to us.”

Potter scowled. “What, why? Why do you people _always_ keep doing that? And why are you attacking Malfoy?”

Bitterness filled Draco’s stomach. Potter still wavered, still thought that Draco was the bad wizard by _default_.

And so _what?_ Draco didn’t want Potter. Draco didn’t _care_ about Potter.

Draco’s magic burned like fire.

He moved instinctively as he launched a spell, shooting out fireballs worthy of a fucking _dragon_.

Potter jumped back, and the wix cast a quick _Protego_ shielding both themself and Potter. Potter, siding with the _enemy_.

_So-fucking-what?_

“Malfoy has been compromised, Auror Potter! His mind has been implanted with twisted and false memories!”

“I would fucking _know!_ ” Draco shot out. Flames turned to lightning, striking ground, striking shield.

Even now, Potter’s magic called out, reaching out for Draco’s and _making Draco stronger_. Draco smirked.

“ _Stupefy,_ ” he incanted, and _kept it going_ , burning the stunner slowly and surely though the shield.

*

 _Truth!_ Harry’s magic sung out. He could feel the truth of Malfoy’s words through his magic.

 _Act first, apologise later!_ Harry thought, and stomped down on the witch’s foot and pushed her into the line of fire. The tiny lapse in concentration was enough for Malfoy’s stunner to hit true.

The witch hit the ground. Conjured ropes immediately bounded her, and Harry quickly stepped back when Malfoy cast a magic suppression spell.

Malfoy stalked forward. “Let’s hope the polyjuice wears off soon. I want to _see_ that smarmy guard’s face.” He crouched over the body and started to search pockets...and pulled out a muggle handgun. “Ah. I _knew_ it.”

Harry felt chilled. This was no ordinary witch. “How did you know that was there?”

“He drew it on me down at the Ministry jail. And put it away when you arrived. Ah, _yes_.”

Harry peered forward. The witch’s body slowly morphed into a wizard. But it wasn’t the guard they had encountered earlier that day.

“Richard _Cord_ ,” Harry breathed.

Malfoy shot him a look.

“He’s one of the Hitwizards. Technically still part of the DMLE. He mostly goes on difficult, international cases. _Fuck_. Is he part of this? He can only take orders from Heads of Departments. Surely _Robards_ didn’t…” Harry swallowed at the thought of his own superior ordering his obliviation.

“Sometimes the best lies are laced with truth,” Malfoy said. “Who’s the head of the Department of Mysteries?”

“Arthur Bartholow.” Harry eyed Cord. “Do you think it was Bartholow?”

“A name gives me someone to hunt.”

Harry twisted his lips and turned to face Malfoy fully. “Malfoy...I _know_ what they did to you was wrong and absolutely horrible. But you can’t just _hunt_ them. Your initial attack—that would be construed as self-defence. But this is clearly planned and premeditated _assault_. You can’t take the law into your own hands!”

Malfoy gave a dark laugh. “And what, should I trust that you would keep me out of Azkaban if I don’t _assault_ any of them? Just as I should have trusted you on your word that I’d be _safe_ in that Ministry cell? You don’t trust me either—all’s _fair_.”

“It would be naive to _trust_ everyone I meet!” Harry stepped towards Malfoy.

Malfoy straightened to his full height. “Ah yes, but you would trust an unknown guard you _just_ met instead of me. You would trust an unknown witch you _just_ met instead of me.”

“I _helped_ you take him down,” Harry shot out, pointing at Cord.

Malfoy’s magic lashed out—and softened upon contact on Harry’s skin. Malfoy growled, low in his throat.

“Only _after_. Just like you went with me on this hunt, only _after_.”

Harry shoved the tiny whisper of guilt away. “Yeah? Well, what the fuck is up with your magic?! It keeps wanting to _bond_ with mine!”

“I have no fucking idea why my magic keeps doing that! Clearly, we must be highly compatible!” Malfoy turned his head away. “Do you know how _rare_ it is to have magic this _resonant?_ ”

Cord began to stir. Malfoy immediately pointed a finger at him. “ _Stupefy. Incarcerous._ ” And then a beat later, “ _Petrify._ ”

Harry opened his mouth to reprimand him, and snapped it shut upon Malfoy’s challenging look.

“Sometimes, the best lies are laced with truth,” Malfoy repeated. “What else is down here?”

Harry shot him a dirty look. “ _Homenum Revelio_. _Appare Vestigium_ ,” Harry cast revealing and tracking charms. The gold of the tracking charm gusted out like a wind, and footsteps appeared—multiple different feet—heading deeper inside. After a beat, the Revelio pinged back positive.

“There are definitely people here.” Reminding himself that he was the _Deputy Head Auror_ , Harry led the way down into the Strand Station.

*

Draco curled his lip at the dirty brick and tile of the station. What kind of people _left_ it in such a horrible condition. Not that a cleaning charm would make the station pretty in _any_ sense of the word.

As they descended, a witch appeared.

“Ah. Are you Aurors here for the safety inspection?” she said. She looked up and saw Draco, and for a moment, a surprised look crossed her face, before she settled back to politeness.

Draco smiled back pleasantly. This witch _knew_ Draco.

“Unfortunately _not_ ,” Potter said.

“We filed all the correct paperwork,” the witch said. “If this is not a safety inspection, then this is _our_ private property.”

“This is not a safety inspection. This is an _Auror investigation_ ,” Potter said sternly.

The witch gave a short nod. “Very well. Follow me.”

Draco immediately narrowed his eyes, remembering the _follow me_ from just a short while ago that culminated in a _battle_ with Cord.

Potter shot him a look and a tight nod.

Draco relaxed a fraction. Potter had finally caught on.

“What is your name, ma’am?” Potter said. “I’m Auror Potter, and with me is my associate Draco Malfoy.”

“Lauretta Wolff,” the witch said. “I’m interested in studying whether there are actually _any_ differences between purebloods and muggleborns.” She shot Draco a smirk. “And so far, all results _find no statistically significant difference_.”

Draco pressed his lips into a very thin line.

“Important research,” Potter said mildly. “It would be good to be able to use that to inform Ministry policy and debunk myths in our society.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Wolff said. She slowed to a stop. “Here we are. Below, are the original train tracks.”

It was a large, long cylindrical room, and oddly curved. There were desks set out in neat rows, a divider, and sets of long lab tables. A handful of other researchers were working away, and they didn’t look up. However, many of the tables were unoccupied.

Draco grinned darkly. _Missing researchers...at St. Mungo's, perhaps?_

“If I may ask, what are you investigating, Auror Potter?” Wolff asked.

Draco inhaled sharply, the scent in the air, the echo in Wolff’s voice feeling like deja vu. Turning sharply, Draco strode down the room, past the desks, past the lab, and through the charmed wall and familiar wards.

The smell hit Draco like a bombardment spell. Blood and potions, sickly sweet and bitter.

_This is it!_

It was dimly lit, but for the spot light on a single surgical table, and the witch upon it, dressed in the same ugly black clothes Draco had been.

 _Clare Rae, the other person taken_.

Draco was going to _destroy_ this place.

Quickly, he vanished Rae’s bonds and renneverated her.

“Get up,” he told her. “Auror Potter is outside. He knows.”

Rae’s eyes focused. “Are you—”

“I’m _not_ one of the damn researchers. I was a test subject. Just like you.”

“ _Oh_. You escaped. The researchers were really _angry_...they tried something on me that had apparently worked for you.”

But Rae’s magic was not powerful. Whatever the researchers had done to Draco had been a _fluke_.

Draco’s lips twisted. “Come on.”

Rae nodded and got to her feet, unsteadily. Draco offered his arm and helped her hobble out.

When they reached the exit, the wards pushed back, much more firm than they were on the way in. They sharpened, prickling against Draco’s skin, as magic suppression spells pressed down hard. Beside him, Rae gasped and collapsed to her knees.

Draco smirked, and reached out for the faint wisp of Potter’s magic that had curled around Draco through the wards.

He concentrated on that weak point and flooded it with magic til the wards shattered.

*

When Malfoy had walked off, Harry had started to follow, but Wolff stopped him.

“Don’t worry about your associate, Auror Potter.”

“What’s behind that wall?”

Wolff shrugged. “It’s just our storage area. The wall is keep the light out really, due to the sensitive nature of some of our ingredients. Also doors are sometimes difficult to manage when one is carrying multiple items.”

A good excuse. _Too good_.

The main door opened. “Oh, Lauretta, I hope something from Pret is fine—”

Harry swiveled to face the newcomer, and recognised him immediately. “ _Bert Knox_. Researcher.”

Knox blinked. “Oh, Harry Potter! You’ve heard of me?”

“And not _me_?” Wolff muttered.

Harry glanced at the far wall. No activity. “Knox, what are _you_ interested in?”

Knox lit up. “Oh! I’m a muggleborn, see, so I’m really interested in how magic interacts with genetics!”

“And what kind of research in particular?”

Knox glanced to Wolff.

“Well, I’ve helped Lauretta compare muggle, muggleborn, halfblood and pureblood genetic material.”

“Do you also make potions?”

“Indeed,” Wolff cut in. “Part of our lab group is involved in potions development. Can you believe we still don’t have a cure for the common cold?”

Something prickled at the back of Harry’s neck. Magic tugged, and Harry turned to the back wall.

The wall exploded, and Malfoy walked out with a frail witch by his side.

 _This_ made all the other researchers in their labs and at their desks look up.

Harry sucked in a breath, stomach flipping at the sight of Malfoy, robes flaring, magic lashing and eyes _dangerous_.

“Hello, my _lovely_ captors and kidnappers,” Malfoy drawled. “How would you like to be tortured?”

*

“Malfoy, _no_.”

Draco ignored him, instead propelling Rae towards Potter to keep him busy.

“Three months, you kept me here,” Draco drawled, sliding a finger along a lab bench. “Barely clothed. Barely fed. As you tested your pitiful potions and concoctions on me. As you _tortured_ me. Don’t lie to yourselves.” Draco stared down Bert Knox. “I never _volunteered_. I was never willing. I never consented.”

“You’re supposed to be d—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Knox, darting a look at Potter.

“We’ve seen Margaret Burke’s memories, Mr. Knox,” Draco said idly. “She drugged me. You came, paid her and took me.”

Wolff rolled her eyes. “Why would this Burke witch get paid? We don’t have much money, we’re _researchers_.”

Draco stalked up to Wolff. “I am curious about one thing. What was that last substance that you injected into me? For that, I might have to thank you. You’ve made me much more powerful.” He gave her a once-over. “There must be someone handy with healing spells around here, given that you are still standing after I flattened you the first time. Or perhaps you didn’t _dirty_ your own hands.”

Wolff glared, took a step forward. “You’re right. You should be damn grateful. You _should_ thank me! You should get down on your knees and _bow!_ I _helped_ you! You were a weakling pureblood! And now, magic rolls off you like a never-ending well!” Her eyes narrowed, her lips smirked. “It was an infusion of Harry Potter’s blood.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

Draco’s resonant compatibility with Potter’s magic. The way Draco’s magic _sung_ when a researcher injected that red blood into his veins.

Draco had to _laugh_.

Wolff looked baffled for a moment, then her lips thinned. “What is it?” she snapped.

“It didn’t work for Rae, she told me,” Draco gave a short nod at Rae, noting Potter’s shell-shocked expression. “And it’s because _my magic is resonant with Harry Potter’s_.”

“Impossible! Your magic is completely different from Harry Potter’s!”

“It’s not about being the _same_. You don’t know our history, do you? Potter’s _used my wand_. His magic recognises me. My magic recognises him. They need each other, and they must have recognised the infusion of Potter’s blood as an equal exchange for Potter’s wand.”

Draco raised his hand, magic pooling across the surface. He could strike Wolff down _right this instant_. He could strike Knox, and every single other damn researcher here. And they would _deserve_ it, and it would be _fair_.

Potter’s magic keened.

Potter’s eyes implored.

For a brief moment, their magic connected linking their minds and flowing back and forth between them.

_Don’t kill them, Malfoy._

Dark wild magic collected in Draco’s finger tips. _Monsters kill_.

 _You’re not a monster. I_ know _you’re not._

Draco snarled. _They_ deserve _it._

_You’re worth more than their deaths. I believe in you._

Through their magic, Draco could hear the truth in Potter’s thoughts.

Wolff drew her wand.

Draco struck.

All the researchers froze.

Draco turned to Potter and gave him a defiant look, however, Potter had an odd expression on his face.

*

Harry’s skin tingled still all over from the wash of Malfoy’s magic throughout the room. It had arced, sparking and lightning green, for the briefest moment before turning a non-lethal red. It was dazzling...and sobering.

The witch shook her head. “Wow, no _wonder_.”

Harry drew his wand and cast his patronus to call other Aurors to the scene. “Malfoy, _stay by my side_ ,” he added sharply, when Malfoy started flipping through research notebooks.

Malfoy scowled. “You owe me,” but he stalked over nonetheless.

Once the Aurors arrived and Harry explained the situation, the petrified researchers were taken to the Ministry cells, Clare Rae to St. Mungos, and all the papers, and equipment were confiscated as evidence.

Belatedly, Harry remembered Richard Cord, but by the time he and Malfoy returned to where they had left him, Cord was gone.

Malfoy wasn’t fussed. “We go after whoever _sent_ him.”

“There are _seven_ departments, and the Minister himself. _Any one of them_ could have ordered Cord to go after us.”

“Wolff said they were poor researchers. And given their location, perhaps so. But they are not _destitute_. Who is funding them? Which department benefits most from their research?”

“They were trying to develop strength enhancements then,” Harry took a harsh breath, “the DMLE, and Mysteries.”

“Lead the way.”

Harry took Malfoy’s hand and apparated them straight to Robards’ office.

Robarbs spluttered, quickly sitting forward. “What is the meaning of this, Potter?” His eyes narrowed upon sight of Malfoy. “And what is Malfoy junior doing here?”

Harry drew his wand. “Let me be blunt. Were you the one who ordered Richard Cord to go after me?”

“Why in the _world—_!”

Harry dropped his wand arm. He could tell that Robards was innocent from his reaction to Malfoy. He couldn’t help but be relieved, though. “I didn’t think it was you. Obliviating me would be too risky, given that I’m your deputy.”

Robards thumped his fist on his desk. “Tell me what’s happening, _now_.”

After darting a glance at Malfoy, Harry quickly told Robards of what had happened, _aside_ from the small fact that he and Malfoy were magically resonant.

Robards eyes flashed to Malfoy. “So, you’re stronger now, hm?”

Malfoy held a steady gaze. “I can apparate through Ministry wards just like Potter.”

Robards scowled. “A bad habit I rather you _not_ take up.”

Harry coughed. “Right. Well. Could you summon Cord. We need to make him tell us who sent him.”

Robards grimaced. “No. It’s likely that _Cord_ didn’t know who sent him, we heads of departments like our secrecy.”

“I don’t I could be that secretive,” Harry admitted.

Robarbs gave a bark of a laugh. “Oh, I _know_ , Potter. However, I _will_ accompany you to Arthur Bartholow.”

“Heh?” Harry made an innocent face.

Robards stood up. “Oh, _please_. The Department of Mysteries’ entire spiel is _funding research_. And given how hushed up this is, it’s _entirely_ up their alley.” Robards shot them a smirk. “And I have a particular _axe_ to grind into old Barty’s face. Metaphorically,” he added belated.

“Great!” Harry said brightly. He fell in line after Robards, and Malfoy followed behind him.

The Department of Mysteries was dark, as always. A little spitefully, Harry lit up a _lumos maxima_.

Robards strode straight down the corridor to the door right at the end. And thumped it, loudly.

“Open up, Bartholow! I know that you know that we’re here!”

The door swung open. Harry and Malfoy glanced at each other.

 _I won’t crush him_ , was Malfoy’s thought.

Harry snorted, and allowed Malfoy through the door first.

Unspeakable Arthur Bartholow was a tall and spindly wizard, and had eyes like he was dissecting Harry where he stood. The back of Harry’s neck tingled.

Bartholow’s cool gaze moved to Robards. “How may I help you, Auror Robards?”

“I’m here as the head of my department, Bartholow.”

Bartholow gave a little sigh. “Yes?”

Robards leaned across the desk. “I don’t appreciate you sending a hitwizard after my deputy.”

“I would never harm Harry Potter.”

Robards snorted. “I consider obliviation _mental_ _harm_. The Department of Mysteries should _not_ be involving itself in the matters of _law enforcement_.”

“But occasionally, law enforcement cases are mysteries.”

“Lauretta Wolff’s little operation is no longer a _mystery_.” Robards leaned over, and suddenly yanked something from Bartholow’s desk.

Harry frowned. It was just a memo pad.

“ _Hmm_ , missing a couple of sheets since last I saw it,” Robards said triumphantly. He slammed it down in front of Bartholow. “Retract your order to Cord. And oh, don’t you worry, I’ll be informing the Minister and the people of your actions. We’re extremely good at sniffing out where Ministry money goes,” Robards added cheerfully.

Bartholow drew himself up like a malicious headmaster. “You and your aurors are a bunch of _dunderheads_ , unable to see the benefit to _all people_ from research on a few. _Obliviate!_ ”

Malfoy’s paranoia had clearly gotten to Harry, because he and Harry had already moved simultaneously, a shining blue-sliver of a shield erupting between Bartholow, themselves and Robards. The Obliviate bounced off and struck the bookshelves behind Bartholow.

Robards smirked. “The Minister is _definitely_ going to hear about this. Auror Potter, capture him.”

With a quick yank of his hand, Harry _Expelliarmus’d_ Bartholow’s wand.

Malfoy drew his and Harry’s magic into a jagged net of lightning around Bartholow.

“So damn flashy,” Robards scowled. “ _Incarcerous!_ ” His ropes slipped through Malfoy’s lightning net and bound Bartholow to his chair. “How low you’ve sunk, Arthur, and this time there’s no Voldemort to blame it on. With my power as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I hereby temporarily suspend you from your position until further notice.” Robards conjured a pen and started writing on the memo pad. With a flourish, the top sheet disappeared. “Cord should be off your backs now, boys.” He glanced at the cage of lightning. “Though, somehow I suspect you could fight him off again if necessary,” he said with a snort.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, is that a bad thing? Maybe Cord if invested in more training on nonstandard forms of magic use first...”

Robards gave him an incredulous look, and then shook his head in exasperation. “Alright, let’s get him to the Minister.”

Harry nodded, and together—with Robards holding the ropes, Malfoy holding the lightning cage, and Harry levitating Bartholow with his chair—they took the lift, as normal, to the Minister’s Office. The Ministry employees in the lift with them pointedly looked away.

Kingsley had the _weariest_ look on his face when he saw them all piling into his office.

Once again, Harry told the story, which Robards picked up towards the end.

“Arthur,” Kingsley sighed. “What else have you kept secret?”

Bartholow kept his mouth shut.

“Harry, Mr. Malfoy. If you may leave Gawain and myself to interrogate Arthur. I understand you’ve both had a tiring day. Take the rest of the day off.”

Malfoy looked about to protest, but Harry gave a short shake of his head.

“Yes, Kingsley,” Harry said dutifully. He grabbed Malfoy’s hand—completely used to the sudden tingling of their half-merged magic—and dragged him out of the Minister’s Office.

“If the _Minister_ tells you to have the rest of the day off, you _take_ it,” Harry said firmly.

Malfoy glanced back. “What’s going to happen?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. But he _will_ be punished. And if he’s not...I _could_ go to the papers. The public would absolutely _turn_ on him if I spin it right.”

Malfoy scoffed, “You’re too media-averse to do _that_.” But he nonetheless followed Harry into the lift.

Richard Cord was casually leaning against the adjacent wall. On reflex, Harry summoned Cord’s wand.

“What are _you_ doing here?” Harry said, lifting an arm up to keep Malfoy behind him.

Cord pushed himself off the wall, holding his hands up and smiling easily. “Sorry, mate. I just wanted to make sure that there’s no hard feelings between us, right?”

Malfoy scoffed.

“You attacked us, twice,” Harry said.

Cord continued to smile. “Mate, I had my orders. It was my _job_.”

“Didn’t it ever occur to you to _question_ your orders?”

“If it wasn’t me, then another Hitwix would have gone after you.”

“Well then, maybe _they_ should question their orders too!” Harry made a sound of frustration. “Look, I know, you have a job. I know you have done good work, but I’m damn well glad we defeated you and I’m not apologising for that.”

Cord nodded. “Fair enough. I’m clearly not wanted, so I’ll make myself scarce.” Making a complicated pattern with his hands, he added, “But I didn’t try too hard, you know. Just to give you a chance. Oh, and you can keep that wand. I have many more.” He winked, and with that, disapparated.

Malfoy lunged forward. “That _bastard_. Give me a shot at him in a duel and I’d _burn_ him—”

Harry slapped a hand over Malfoy’s mouth. “No murder threats while just outside the Minister’s office,” he said.

Malfoy’s eyes darkened. His lips parted beneath Harry’s hand, breathing out warm air.

Harry swallowed and took his hand back. “Come on, let’s get out of the Ministry.” He jabbed the lift button.

The Minister’s Office was on Level 1—the lift stopped again on Level 2, and Preston entered.

Preston gave Harry a quick smile. That smile turned sour when he noticed Malfoy. “Harry, what is _he_ doing here?”

Malfoy gave him a look, then crossed his arms and turned his head away.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was the wizard you and Nelson found on the street?” Harry countered.

Preston turned sincere eyes onto Harry. “Harry, I _know_ how busy you are. I’m a _senior Auror_ too. Malfoy was covered in blood. He attacked _innocent people_.”

“Not innocent, actually,” Harry said. “Look, it’s been a long day for me and Malfoy both—”

Preston’s expression darkened. “What happened?”

“The evidence is all down in the cells,” Harry said. “I’m knackered. Malfoy’s been using up too much of _my_ magic.” Harry gave Malfoy a pointed sidelong look. He only meant it _half_ in jest.

Malfoy snorted, but Preston paled, stepping between Harry and Malfoy, grabbing Harry’s arm.

“You need to go to St. Mungos!”

The lift door opened to the Atrium, and Harry shook off Preston’s arm. “Don’t worry, it’s _fine_. Malfoy can’t kill me. Look, Preston—”

Preston’s face soured. “You’ve _always_ had a soft spot for Draco Malfoy.” He glared at Malfoy, and then turned firm eyes back to Harry. “Stay safe, Harry.”

Malfoy bumped into Harry’s shoulder when Preston left.

“ _What_?” Harry snapped.

Malfoy scowled back. “He _likes_ you.”

Harry spluttered. “What? No! We used to be Auror partners!”

“He fucking _likes_ you. Merlin you’re just oblivious as _fuck_. You _always_ have been, since Hogwarts! Since birth!” Malfoy’s magic spiked.

“Hey, _hey_ , calm down,” Harry urged, aware of everyone in the Atrium _watching_ them. He quickly cast a _Muffliato_ around them. “Where are you headed?”

“Shit. I can’t go back home.”

“Don’t you miss your mum? She must have been worried, you’ve been missing for three months—”

“She’ll know _immediately_ that something’s wrong with me.” Malfoy gritted his teeth.

“But there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Malfoy shot Harry a look. “Don’t be so fucking stupid. Wolff and her little band of researchers _modified_ me.”

Harry was absolutely perplexed. “You weren’t worried about this before?”

Malfoy’s return smile was sharp. “I wanted to crush them. _What_ I was didn’t matter, so long as I had the _power_.”

“Come with me, then. My place is still under Fidelius.”

After a beat, Malfoy nodded.

*

 _Harry Potter lives at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place_.

The old Black house.

“That explains why Mother couldn’t remember the exact location,” Draco muttered. As it was, with the combination of Harry Potter’s blood and Black blood in his veins, the house accepted him easily, the door opening under his touch, the lights springing on.

“Ugh, I can’t believe it likes you more than me,” Potter grumbled.

Draco didn’t laugh.

Potter’s blood was _permanently_ in Draco’s veins, as was the dozens of other things that the researchers had injected him with. Some of the potions had _ensured_ that Draco’s body would keep producing its modified blood.

Combining ingredients to make a potion was _vastly_ easier than separating and returning a potion to its original components.

Draco was no longer a pureblood.

The realisation hit him like a stunner.

Worse. He was a _mongrel_. A _monster_. He had no idea what else they had shoved into him. There _had_ to be at least some dragon blood, given his ability to launch fireballs. But _what else_?

At least a muggleborn _knew_ the blood in their veins came from two muggles.

At least a halfblood _knew_ the blood in their veins came from a pureblood and a muggleborn.

And Draco knew virtually _nothing_.

“Fuck, hey! What’s wrong? How about some food? Molly always says food helps—”

Draco flinched away from Potter’s touch and headed deeper into the house, opening and closing doors and ignoring Potter.

He stopped when he saw the Black Family Tapestry and his own face upon it.

Potter stumbled into him. “ _Draco_ , tell me what’s wrong, for fuck’s sake! Our magic is literally trying to bond, don’t you remember everything that we just _did_ today?”

Coldly, Draco said, “If Walburga Black knew what blood now runs in my veins, she would smite me from the Tapestry.”

Potter grabbed his shoulder and forced him round. “Yeah, well, _I’m_ the head of this house now. And I say you’re still on it. I realise this is difficult for you, but _you’re still you_.” Potter’s magic reached out.

Draco turned his head away, but his own traitorous magic reached back, mingling and meshing and humming and resonating. “My parents want me to marry a pureblood witch.”

Potter yanked his hands away. “I’m sorry.”

“But I’m no longer _pure_ blood.”

“Um, I somehow doubt that those potions and stuff changed the genetic material in your sperm…”

Draco grabbed Potter by the shoulders and pushed him up against the wall. “You _don’t_ understand. The _risk_ is there! I can’t sully a pureblood—”

“I’m _not_ dirty, Malfoy.” Potter glared up at him, green eyes bright enough to kill. “ _You’re_ not dirty, you’re not broken, Malfoy. Don’t you think this is a fucking _opportunity?_ Your parents want you to marry a pureblood witch and make pureblood babies. But what do _you_ want to do? You’re strong. We know that our magic’s fucking resonant, which is apparently so rare it’s nearly impossible!”

Potter’s burning conviction ran through their magic.

But Draco _couldn’t_. He clenched his fists. “I don’t know what blood is in my veins. I don’t _know_. If I could _kill_ those damn researchers—”

Potter immediately grabbed his arm. “It would only make you feel better, for like, a _tiny_ fraction of a second if you kill them. But the fact remains that you _have_ been changed.” In his force, Potter’s magic rolled, pushing against Draco’s skin.

And if Potter wouldn’t give up, Draco would _make_ him. Tell him, disgust him—

Draco hissed, and his voice was low, deep and dark. “It’s not just _your_ blood. I’m not even completely _human_ anymore. My magic is _wild_ , untamed. It _wants_ you. Do you understand? It’s curling around you right now, but it wants to _consume_ you, make you _part_ of me, connect us seamlessly. And my magic is _me_. It makes me want to _eat you up_ , like an accursed _monster_.” He pressed right up into Potter’s personal space. “And you owe me _kills_ , Potter. You’ve kept the _deaths_ of those researchers from me.”

Draco was so _sure_ that Potter would shudder, would push Draco away like the beast his blood, his magic, had become.

Instead, Potter’s tongue darted out between his lips, as a cocky smirk graced his mouth. “Then let go and _try_ to eat me. You can’t kill me, Malfoy. Better you _try_ on me than on some innocent wix.” Potter tilted his head back. “I can take one for the team.”

“Always so damn _honourable_ ,” Draco growled. “Do you know what you’re accepting? Are you _asking for it_?”

Potter’s death-green stared back defiantly. “I _am_.”

Draco yanked off Potter’s spectacles and _consumed him_.

*

Harry fought back, lips and tongue kissing back just as much as Malfoy gave. He let his hands roam, with glee tugging apart Malfoy’s damn prissy robes. Malfoy’s magic spiralled, lightning coursing around them, and Harry ramped up his magic in response, fighting and resonating alternately.

Harry stuck his hand down Malfoy’s trousers, and smirked at Malfoy’s sudden gasp. He tugged, hard. “ _Good_ , Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s pupils were blown wide. “Turn around and _face the damn wall_ ,” he hissed, yanking Harry’s hand off of him.

Leisurely, Harry turned around. Braced his arms against the wall, and looked back over his shoulder. Arching his body, “Like this, Malfoy?”

Malfoy leered, pressing his entire body against Harry. “Oh, yes.” He tilted his head and kissed.

Harry grabbed one of Malfoy’s hands and pushed it between his top and trousers. Quickly, Malfoy’s hand dipped into his trousers, and Harry gave a gasp of pleasure, thrusting into Malfoy’s hand.

“Come _on_ , Malfoy. I thought you were supposed to be _taking me_.”

“Patience is a _virtue_ , Potter.”

Harry hummed noncommittally, and vanished his trousers and pants instead. Bare skin hit cool air—and the silky smoothness of Malfoy’s robes.

Malfoy huffed. “Damn you’re _eager_.”

“You’re just damn _slow_. It’ll be faster if I just ride you—”

Malfoy bit his ear. A coarse tongue followed, licking across the hot bite. “I’m going to _fuck you_ up against this wall.” Harsh fingers, slick with lube, pressed into Harry’s arse, as magic crept up Harry’s chest and squeezed his nipples.

“Like _that_.” Harry tilted his hips, spread his legs further apart. “And don’t forget the damn protection spell.”

“I’m not _stupid_ ,” Malfoy muttered. “We don’t know what those damn researchers did.”

Harry hummed. In the lull as Malfoy prepared him, their magic resonated, tingling pleasure across Harry’s skin. If he just listened closely, he could almost make out a hint of song—

The blunt head of Malfoy’s cock nudged against him.

But didn’t enter.

Malfoy’s breath fanned across Harry’s neck. Voice tight, “Are you _sure_?”

Harry arched back, braced himself. “Give me _all you got_.”

Malfoy thrust in, _hard_ , and in the span of a breath, Malfoy’s magic _took him_.

Harry growled, fucking himself on Malfoy’s cock, taking _Malfoy’s_ magic.

They established a sharp tempo, as pleasure spiralled _higher and higher_ , as magic exchanged bodies _over and over_. Malfoy’s grip on his hips was tight; Harry’s grip on Malfoy’s cock was even tighter.

Harry couldn’t hold back his gasps. Malfoy pushed deeper and deeper and their magic smashed together like crashing waves, until there was only _one_ magic, and it was not Malfoy’s, and it was not Harry’s, it was _both_ —

*

—and Draco felt so much energy, so much power that he was dizzy with it. And Potter’s arse, and Potter’s heat, and Potter’s low litany of, _yes_ , and _Malfoy_ , and _fuck_ was so _good_ that Draco could _sob_ —

“Fuck, Potter, oh _fuck_ —” his words descended into a low groan his cock pulsed and the world became white—

*

—Harry squeezed his eyes shut as the wave of his orgasm hit him, as he came and shuddered.

Harry dragged in harsh breaths as he came back to himself.

—their magic shifted, two parts to one whole. Separate: Malfoy’s magic, Harry’s magic. But inextricably entangled, fundamentally changed.

Malfoy slumped over him, his own breaths ragged. As the seconds passed, Harry’s body trembled with the aftershocks, smoothing down with the gentling lapping of his magic.

Steady, deep breaths.

Malfoy slipped out of him and muttered a cleaning charm.

Harry turned around, pulled Malfoy towards him, and kissed him languidly.

When they finally withdrew, Harry kept his hands firmly on Malfoy. Malfoy gazed back at him.

Harry smiled. “You couldn’t kill me.”

Malfoy raised a brow. “ _La petite mort_ , dear Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “If you have to resort to _metaphors_ …” Harry shook his head, sighing.

Malfoy scowled. “ _Next time_ then.”

Harry smirked. “Alright. But first, let’s have dinner. Maybe you just need some more sustenance,” he teased.

With a snap of Malfoy’s fingers, new trousers and pants appeared on Harry’s body. “Get a move on, then.”

Harry snorted. “Merlin, _you’re_ so _damn eager._ ” Harry had to say, throwing back Malfoy’s own words. He slung an arm around Malfoy’s shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, dragging Malfoy along to the kitchens.

“So _uncivilised_ ,” Malfoy complained, but he made no move to remove Harry’s arm.

Harry snickered. After a moment, Malfoy gave him a huff of exasperation.

“Just you _wait_ ,” he threatened. But the wild undercurrent was gone. Malfoy was steady.

And between them, their magic hummed freely, stronger, unbroken and remade anew.

  


  


_The End._

  


  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the names are mash-ups or alterations from famous (and infamous) people. Lauretta [Bender], [Harold] Wolff, Arthur [Wentworth], [Roberts] Bartholow were all researchers who conducted (unethical) human experiments.
> 
> Margaret Burke is named for Burke, of the Burke and Hare murders—they murdered people (typically by making them extremely drunk and then smothering them) and sold the bodies to [Robert] Knox for science/anatomy dissections.
> 
> Richard Cord (and his fake name, James Craig) is named for James Bond (and one of the actors).
> 
> The Strand Station—or rather, Aldwych Tube Station, is a real, closed station near Kings College London. It had been used in the wartime to store items (and temporarily house people).
> 
> The magical resonance between Harry and Draco is named for the collapse of the 1940 Tacoma Narrows Bridge and for the physics phenomenon of resonance in general.


End file.
